I think the last I wrote was in Utah. I felt alive and inspired. In the interim I’ve tried my best to live fully but the repetition, the monotony of the daily grind, and current personal strife have attempted to erode my joy. Maybe more than attempted; they did.
Monday I made a giant leap. I booked a 5,000 mile trip to winter. It’s July here: hot, humid, stifling, …boring and hard. I had planned a local adventure, a getaway to the Georgia mountains to live a little, be free for a moment, but a friend suggested the minimal elevation might not provide the temperature relief I sought. So I started dreaming – What do I love to do: ski! Tomorrow I fly to Santiago, Chile, to winter. I had no plans, no clue of where to go aside from a couple internet searches. I’ve rented a 4wd truck with tires chains for the Andes Mountains. I’ve booked 1 inn. I’ve downloaded maps for my GPS. I have my satellite emergency rescue beacon. I decided to pack my motorcycle riding gear. I’ll use it to ski but I’ll also be able to rent a bike, maybe. Yeah, it’s heavy, but at my age it’s safety, protection, and a little confidence. The weight will make me stronger, like my life haha.
I’m traveling alone, solo adventure. My mission for this trip is to define “self” (Thanks Sean Webb and your books on Mindhacking Happiness”). Like Pete Townsend famously sang, “Who the fuck are you?”
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